Moonage Daydream
by Just Another Flygirl
Summary: What happens when the worlds of Thunderbirds are Go and Guardians of the Galaxy collide? (This may potentially turn into a series of ficlets)
1. 1 - Moonage Daydream

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters from Thunderbirds Are Go - they belong to the late Gerry and Silvia Anderson. Characters from Guardians of the Galaxy belong to Marvel and the late Stan Lee.

**Author's Note:** So… I know two of my good friends have been waiting on this little piece for a good few months now (okay, so maybe at least 6 months! Sorry!). I was really stuck with writer's block and then got stuck on just how I was going to make this work.

Depending on how things go, I may just make this a series of short fics based on this TAG / GOTG crossover. This is the first kind of crossover I've done for an extremely long time, so I hope that it comes out okay! Feedback is always welcome – thanks so much for reading!

* * *

Consciousness was slow and painful to return.

Alan Tracy winced as he let out a soft groan, cringing at the dull throbbing sensation in his head.

Any attempts to move were met with more pain and after several feeble attempts, the youngest member of International Rescue settled for just laying still against the cool metal the cockpit floor.

_'What the heck happened?_

He sucked in a slightly shaky breath, holding onto it for a moment before exhaling slowly as he tried to gather his somewhat scrambled thoughts.

Ah yeah...

They had been on a mission involving a remote-operated probe that was supposed to land on the Vala Asteroid to collect data during the time where its orbit was closest to that of their own planet. A major misalignment whilst landing the probe had caused catastrophic consequences; knocking the asteroid off its trajectory and putting it on a collision course with Earth - more specifically, the West Coast of America.

Being the closest to the straying asteroid, John had volunteered to scout ahead from Thunderbird Five with the use of his wingsuit.

And then the Chaos Crew had gotten involved.

Kayo was busy tracking down a potential lead on The Hood's whereabouts and Gordon was still recovering from a broken ankle as a result of taking a rather embarrassing spill whilst showboating for Lady Penelope shortly after a mission over the Supreme Barrier Reef.

Considering the seriousness of the situation and the new complications that had presented themselves, Scott and Virgil - having just returned from an assignment in the Amazonian rainforest - did not hesitate to join Alan in Thunderbird Three as they headed out to assist their brother and get the Vala Asteroid back on track.

They had just managed to locate and retrieve John before things turned kind of.. weird.

Alan was not exactly sure what had caused the manifestation of what he could only have described as a vortex. The last thing he could remember before everything went black was the blaring sound of alarms within the cockpit and Virgil's deep voice warning him that the engines on his beloved rocket were overheating as he fought to retain control of Thunderbird Three and escape the pull of the vortex.

_'Am I dead...?'_

Daring to open his eyes again, Alan blinked owlishly, trying to force his eyes to both un-blur themselves and adjust to the dim lighting.

_'If I'm not dead, we must be running on emergency power...'_

A deep groan on his left caught his attention and Alan rolled sluggishly onto his back. "Virgil..?"

"No.. It's John."

Alan frowned, giving himself another few seconds before attempting to sit himself upright.

"John. What the heck happened to... your... voice?" the youngest member of International Rescue's own voice trailed off, his frown growing even deeper.

Never mind John... What the heck was going on with _his_ voice?!

Wobbling to his feet, Alan steadied himself for a moment before checking himself over.

"What the...? What am I even wearing?" gloved hands patted himself down as he inspected his appearance. And physique. "Is this some kind of messed up dream?"

This... Was _not_ his body.

Not that he was complaining...

_'Oh crap!'_

"John! Scott! Virgil!" Alan glanced around, his eyes still trying to get used to the dim lighting. "Are you guys okay?"

"Ugh... Peachy." John muttered as he too managed to haul himself to his feet. "Wait.. What the hell's going on?!"

Alan swallowed as he looked at John.

It was almost as though his middle brother had gone through a complete one-eighty in appearance: John's lanky-yet-graceful frame replaced with a build so muscular that it made Virgil look like a first-timer at the gym. His usually pale skin was now a dark ashen tone with deep red markings, amplified more by the lack of shirt.

And then there was the hair...

... Or lack thereof.

But the rare-yet-recognisable shade of aqua of John's eyes were still there.

Yup. Definitely John.

Alan let out a soft whistle. "Damn, John.…"

"Goddamn Chaos Crew... Is everyone okay?"

Alan and John both turned in unison, their jaws dropping.

"Uhm... I think so...?" Alan cocked his head to one side. Part of him _really_ hoped that he was dreaming now. "Is that you, Virg?"

"No, it's me. Scott," the Field Commander almost growled in frustration as he pushed himself up from the cockpit floor. "You hit your head or something? Also, your voice sounds-"

"Weird, I know," Alan sighed. "And yeah, I'm definitely Alan. And this," he thumbed toward his burly brother. "Is _really_ John. Don't ask. We don't know..." he paused, wrinkling his nose as his brows knitted together in a mixture of bewilderment and mild amusement. "Hey, bro... You taken a good look at yourself yet?"

Alan waited patiently and tried not to laugh as the pilot glanced down at himself, those familiar crystalline blue eyes widening in shock and disbelief.

"What the fu-"

Any form of expletives were drowned out as Alan could no longer hold back his hysterical laughter. Next to him, John just let out a deep sigh and a shake of his head.

"Alan! This isn't funny!" Scott snarled.

"But you... You're a... a..." Alan continued to chortle, wiping tears of mirth from the corners of his eyes. "You're a talking raccoon!"

"I said that's _enough_!"

"... I am Groot?"

"How should I know, Virg?" Scott growled, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "When I find out who's behind this, I'm gonna... Wait... What?"

All three siblings took a nervous step back as Virgil rose to his full height, rubbing his head with a bark-coated hand.

"I am Groot..."

"Yeah... Well, you don't look so sharp yourself there, brother..." Scott huffed, examining one claw-tipped hand..? Paw? "You probably want to stay away from naked flames."

Alan and John blinked at each other for a moment before glancing back at their older siblings.

"You two can understand each other?" Alan enquired, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

Virgil gave a nod. "I am Groot."

"What he said," Scott agreed. "You guys don't understand him?"

John and Alan shook their heads.

"Well that's not going to complicate things..." Scott let out a sigh before glancing around. "Where are we anyway? This is definitely _not_ Thunderbird Thr-"

"What the hell happened?!"

All four siblings stiffened at the sound of the new, commanding voice.

There was the sound of running footsteps on metal before a tall, slim female with emerald green skin and dual-toned hair strode into the cockpit. Her steely gaze fixed on Alan. "After all of that crap running from that renegade Nova fleet, I just had to put out a fire. In the goddamn bathroom! How is that even possible, Quill?!"

Alan stared back blankly. "Who's Quill?"

"_You_, you flarkin-"

"Don't talk to him like that!" Scott growled, already putting himself between his youngest sibling and the furious woman.

"Can it, rodent!"

"What did you just call me?!"

"Calm down, Scott!" John had stepped forward now, ready to restrain his brother if things escalated any further. There was a certain vibe that this newcomer was giving off which made him feel uneasy.

Said newcomer seemed to stop in her tracks, clocking her head. "What did you just call him, Drax?"

John blinked. "I'm not Drax. I'm John. And you are...?"

"Are you seriously asking me that question?" she bristled, her hand moving to her hidden blade. "I want an explanation. _Now._"


	2. 2 - Bring It on Home to Me

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters from Thunderbirds Are Go - they belong to the late Gerry and Silvia Anderson. Characters from Guardians of the Galaxy belong to Marvel and the late Stan Lee.

**Author's Note:** Thank you so much for all of the feedback so far – I very much appreciate it :3

* * *

"Th-This is a scientific b-breakthrough!"

Brains' excitement was met with a combination of tired, confused and irritated stares.

The only exception seems to be MAX; the robotic AI bouncing energetically beside his creator before focusing his optics back toward the source of everyone's attention.

Alan and Virgil sat somewhat awkwardly on one of the leather sofas of the villa den as John and Scott stood; casually inclined on either side.

Except it was _not_ Alan, Virgil, John and Scott.

Physically, maybe.

Definitely not in mind and soul.

"So this planet was your home?" John - or rather Drax - glanced down at Alan - who was actually Peter Quill. Or Star Lord. He answered to both names. "It certainly doesn't seem so bad..."

Groot nodded in agreement. Despite still adjusting to his new Terran form that originally belonged to Virgil Tracy, he was unable to stop himself from beaming at the lush fauna that surrounded the spacious living quarters.

"This is just the nice part of Terra," Peter waved a hand dismissively, wrinkling his nose in disdain at the pitch of his new voice. "I _really_ don't want to be here any longer than we have to."

_'Too many painful memories...'_

"Considering we have n-no idea exactly how this happened, would you mind if MAX and I run some.. uhm.. tests?" Brains adjusted his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. "It may give us some cl-clues on how to reverse the situation."

"Well, I for one am most keen on returning to my original form," Drax gave a firm nod. "As beautiful as your environment may be, I am most dissatisfied with how weak and fragile Terran bodies are. And this..." he reached up and ran his hand through red locks. "This hair is impractical and most displeasing. I would shave it off."

"Please don't," Gordon cringed. "We'll try and find a solution to reversing all of this. Until then, try not to do anything... weird."

Speaking of weird...

"Uhm.. Ala- I mean Star Dude-"

"It's Star _Lord_," Peter corrected with a roll of his eyes. "C'mon... It's not that hard."

"Sorry, Star Lord, sir," Gordon cleared his throat before gesturing with his hand. "Is there any particular reason why your friend keeps staring at MAX like that?"

A quick glance to his left drew a deep sigh from Peter. "Rocket... Don't even think about it."

"What?" Scott - or rather Rocket - straightened his posture, looking almost _too_ innocent. "I was only going to ask our spectacled friend here how much he wanted for the robot."

"His name is M-MAX," Brains spluttered. "And he's n-not for sale, I'm afraid."

Deep chocolate browns met with spectacled, hazel eyes.

"What if I told you it's really important to me?"

Brains seemed unconvinced. "F-For what purpose?"

"Research."

"A-Absolutely not!"

"Rocket! Enough already!" Peter groaned, rubbing a weary hand over his face, his brow furrowing even more at the lack of stubble found there.

"Fine," Rocket huffed and Peter was pretty sure that if his friend still possessed a tail, said appendage would be whipping back and forth in annoyance. "You Humies are always so uptight..."

"I am Groot."

"Hey! I didn't ask to be turned like this!" Rocket all but snapped at Groot as he gestured wildly at his new appearance. "Why don't ya take a good look at yourself whilst you're at it?"

Groot sighed deeply before glancing at his comrades and tipping his head slightly. "I am Groot?"

"I did _not_ imply that you were ugly!" Rocket slapped a hand over his face with a growl of frustration. This, of course, earned a silent giggle from Gordon as he lay casually across one of the other sofas with his broken ankle elevated on a small stack of pillows.

"I actually believe that Groot has been the most fortunate," Drax offered. "He at least has the physique of a warrior in the making... Although I am certain that once I have returned to my original form, I would easily smush it..."

"Yeah, I don't think anyone should be smushing anything," Kayo interjected, arms folded across her chest as she glared at Drax in warning. "Our priority is to get you - and our team - back to normal."

"Agreed," Peter gave a nod before he leaned forward in his seat to give International Rescue's head of security a cheeky wink. "And then maybe after that, we could go back to discussing smushing?"

Kayo was not biting. "Mr Quill, please. I'd really rather not knock you out."

Peter merely shrugged the incident off. "Worth a shot."

_"As intriguing as all of this may seem, I would strongly suggest commencing any necessary tests as soon as possible,"_ the floating, holographic representation of EOS had been silent until now. _"We may also want to bring our... guests up to speed with our own occupations and way of life. Perhaps if they truly are a collective of galactic heroes, they would not mind assisting with our operations until a resolution has been made?"_

"Good point, EOS," Grandma Tracy nodded her head in agreement. "Gordon, why don't you and Kayo fill in our guests whilst Brains and MAX run some tests on them. In the meantime, I'm sure I can whip up a couple of Earth special dishes for them."

"F.A.B." Gordon gave a nervous laugh as he watched his grandmother had towards the sparse, open-plan kitchen on the level below them. He waited long enough for her to be put off earshot before leaning towards the band of newcomers, keeping his voice as low as possible. "She doesn't exactly cook the best our planet has to offer. Just... Pretend it's good? Please?"


End file.
